


Love You So Much

by isnt_that_wizard



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anxiety Disorder, Boys In Love, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gay Stanley Uris, Happy Ending, M/M, Mike and Stan are in looove, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Stan comes out to his parents, Stan deserves love, Supportive Friends and Family, they're around 17-18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21550501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isnt_that_wizard/pseuds/isnt_that_wizard
Summary: Stanley Uris was anxious about a lot of things. He was anxious about school, and temple with his parents, and how he was getting too big for his bike, and about dreams of paintings and clowns that he recognized but couldn't quite place, and about so much more. But Stan didn't think he'd ever been as anxious as he was tonight."I'm thinking about coming out to my parents tomorrow," Stan admitted quietly.🎈🎈🎈🎈🎈Stan has been dating Mike for five months now. He's absolutely terrified to come out to his parents, but thankfully he has a wonderful boyfriend and his best friend to help him through it.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris
Comments: 6
Kudos: 74





	Love You So Much

Stanley Uris was anxious about a lot of things. He was anxious about school, and temple with his parents, and how he was getting too big for his bike, and about dreams of paintings and clowns that he recognized but couldn't quite place, and about so much more. But Stan didn't think he'd ever been as anxious as he was tonight. 

It was late; he had already said good night to this parents and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a shirt he'd stolen from Mike to go to bed. Yet he was wide awake. He was sat on his bed, playing with a golden Star of David attached to a gold chain. The necklace had belonged to his grandmother, someone he'd been very close to until she passed away. His father had given him the necklace as part of his Bar Mitzvah gift, and now Stan often found it in his hands when he was anxious or stressed. He slipped it over his head, letting it fall against his chest. It made sense for him to be anxious now as he brought his cell phone up to his ear, waiting for Mike to answer on the other end.

Mike Hanlon was his boyfriend. His wonderful, amazing, absolutely perfect boyfriend. They'd been dating for a while now and Stan knew it was cheesy, but he didn't think hed ever been happier than he was with Mike.

Their getting together story had been. . . less than ideal. Stan was as in love with the fact it happened as he was with Mike, of course, but it still made him cringe in embarrassment. Nothing about it, except maybe the actual getting together part, had been great. It had, in fact, started with Mike having a date with someone else.

_They were all sitting in the clubhouse one day after school. Mike had, as always, met them at the high school before they all got on their bikes and rode out to the woods. Mike had seemed unusually giddy when Stan had approached the group. He had that smile on his face that made Stan want to absolutely melt. There was a strange bounce in his step as well, and he held on extra tight to the hug he gave Stan in greeting. It had sped his heart up a little more than he'd care to admit. It was a comforting, warm, incredible hug that Stan wished he could experience forever._

_When they'd all reached the clubhouse, Ben rolled his eyes and finally asked Mike what was up with him. He regained the smile and at Ben's question a blush dusted his cheeks._

_"Um, well, before you guys got out to the school," Mike started, though Stan was busying himself with the start of his homework and only barely listening, "Sarah Conrad came to talk to me."_

_Bev, who was lounging next to Stan at the small table, suddenly sat up. "What did she want, Mikey?"_

_"She actually, well, she asked me out on a date."_

_The Losers Club suddenly became collectively active, firing off questions and congratulations to Mike. Stan, however, felt himself freeze. Sarah Conrad had done_ what? _Stan frowned, biting his lip. Really, he knew, he had no right to be jealous. He'd been harboring this hopeless crush on Mike for over a year now. He'd never said anything to anyone, especially not to Mike. None of his friends even knew he was gay. So really, he couldn't be upset that all of his friends were smiling with happiness for Mike. But there he sat, pencil frozen against the paper and his mood deflating. God, he wanted that to be him. He wanted to take Mike out on a date, tell him how much he liked him, earn that stupid blush on his stupid, cute face._ _His_ _friends_ _were_ _still_ _all_ _chatting_ _around_ _him_ _about_ _various_ _aspects_ _of_ _Mike's_ _news._ _Stan_ _had a_ _million_ _different,_ _jealous_ _thoughts_ _running_ _through_ _his_ _head before Bev interrupted them all,_ _her_ _elbow_ _nudging_ _his_ _side._

_"_ _What_ _about_ _you, Stan?"_

_"What?" he asked, not really wanting to know what she had to say._

_"Where do you think Mike should take Sarah on a date?"_

_Stan stared at her for a moment, at a loss for words. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, waiting for what they probably expected to be a snarky comment or a roll of his eyes. But Stan stayed silent, feeling under the spotlight and an increasing anxiety. The silence was growing_ _awkward, he knew, and Stan made the mistake of looking away from Bev and straight into Mike's eyes_ _. Stan felt shaky, like his breathing was becoming difficult, and looking at Mike's face made him feel a stinging wetness in his eyes. Instead of answering Beverly, Stan found himself quickly standing up and making his way out of the clubhouse as fast as he could._

_It wasn't until he was at least half a mile away, collapsed onto the trunk of a fallen tree that Stan felt as though he could breath again. He put his face into his hands in embarrassment. God, what the hell was wrong with him? It wasn't like Mike was going to have stayed single forever. He knew that nothing was going to happen between them. He should've been able to handle it._

_To make matters worse, he heard Richie come up from behind him saying, "What the hell was_ _that, Stanley?"_

_Stan sighed deeply. Of course Richie had to come after him._

_"It's nothing, Rich," he mumbled. His best friend scoffed as he plopped down onto the trunk beside Stan._

_"It was obviously something. You literally walked out just because Bev asked you a question."_

_Stan wouldn't look at Richie, biting his lip between his teeth_ _again, as was his anxiety induced habit. He knew how hard it was for him to ever lie to Richie. They had an unnatural habit of being able to read each other like a book._

_"Mike. . ." Stan started, then stopped himself, feeling his skin burn. It wasn't like he thought Richie would be upset if he found out about Stan's crush or that he was gay. Richie and Eddie had been together for weeks now. Still, Stan had never told anyone before. And it chilled his blood to think about doing so now. Richie, however, didn't seem to catch on to any of that, for what must be the first time in their very long friendship._

_"Mike? What does this have to do with Mike?"_

_Stan stayed silent_ _._

_"Is this because of his date?"_

_Stan took a deep breath, then nodded. Stan knew it would give him away._

_Well, to anybody else it would have. For Richie, however, it seemed like today- the day Stan needed to have Richie be able to tell what was wrong the most- Richie had lost all powers of inference and was sticking with just plain oblivion_ _._

_"Why?" he asked. "I thought you liked Sarah! You guys did that science project together that one time and you said she was the best lab partner you'd ever had. So what's wrong with her asking out Mike? Unless. . . Shit, Stan, it's not because she's white and he's_ _black, is it?"_

_At that, Stan snapped his head towards_ _Richie, mouth open in shock._

_"Richie, what the_ fuck _?!"_

_Richie held his hands up in surrender. "Shit, man, I don't fucking know! I've never thought you were racist, and like come on, man, it's 2019, but you've never reacted that way to any of the rest of us getting dates! You were always so happy for us, but you walked out when it was Mike._ _So, I don't know, a racial issue was the only thing I could think of."_

_Stan glared at his best friend. They'd been friends since kindergarten. Racist? Stan wasn't fucking racist. The fact that Richie could even think for a second that Stan had a problem with Mike being black- after knowing him for years and hanging out on his farm at least once a week- was beyond insulting._

_"Richie, how can you even think that?" More hurt was let into Stan's voice than he'd planned on, and Richie looked a little guilty._

_"Stan, I don't, I promise_ _. It's just, you're being weird and-"_

_"Fucking hell, Richie! I'm not racist, I'm gay! I'm gay. . ."_

_Richie stared at him, mouth opened in an 'oh'. Stan felt as though he could cry. He couldn't believe he'd finally said it out loud to someone. He couldn't believe he'd said it in a response to being accused of being racist. But he had. And now Richie was sitting there, not saying anything. Stan looked to the ground, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. After a minute or_ _so, Richie cleared his throat and Stan couldn't see him shake his head back and forth out of the corner of his_ _eye, like Richie was resetting himself._

_"I'm sorry, Stan," Richie mumbled, bumping their shoulders together. Stan shook his head, "It's fine."_

_"It's not. I'm sorry I said that, and I'm sorry you came out to me like that. You shouldn't have had to. It should've been like with me, with crying and hugging and you telling me you loved me all the same, that I was still your brother."_

_Stan stayed silent._

_"You are," Richie continued after the silence passed a minute or so. "You're still my brother. I love you, man, and I'm proud of you."_

_Stan felt like he could cry again. He didn't move his arms away from his torso, didn't look at Richie. But he gave a small smile, and he nodded. "Thanks, Richie."_

_Then, Richie_ _asked, "So your problem with Mike's date. . ?"_

_"Yeah," Stan breathed out._

_"How long?"_

_Shuttering an anxious breath, Stan_ _said, "Since two Octobers ago. . . I've had a crush on Mike for a year and a half."_

_Before Richie could even reply, another voice from behind them joined the conversation._

_"You have a crush on me?"_

_Richie and Stan both shot up from their seated position, turning around to face where Mike was standing next to a tall tree, shock written on his face._

_"Mike, I- shit, I-" Stan managed to croak out, sounding just as anxious and broken as he felt. Both stood there silently, staring at each other. Eventually, Richie gently put his hand on his shoulder._

_"I'll text you later, okay, Stan?"_

_Without waiting for a reply, Richie started making his way through the woods, back in the direction of the clubhouse. When he was just enough out of sight, Mike stepped towards Stan until they were only a few feet apart._

_"What are you. . . what are you doing here?" Stan asked quietly, unable to take his eyes off Mike's still shocked face and feeling his own grow tomato red in embarrassment and shame._

_"When you and Richie didn't come back I figured I'd come look for you," Mike's voice was gentle, soothing over Stan in a way he wished it wouldn't. Why did he have to have this fucking crush?_

_"How long were you standing there?" Stan was partly afraid of the answer._

_"Long enough to hear Richie try to excuse himself for calling you racist."_

_"I'm not racist."_

_Mike smiled just slightly, gently. "I know, Stan."_

_Mike took half a step closer. Stan wasn't sure where to go or what to do_ _. He just stood there dumbly, finally finding enough power to tear his eyes away from Mike and plant them on the ground._

_"Do you really have a crush on me?"_

_Stan clenched his eyes shut. He could probably live with Mike knowing. With Mike's rejection, though? That was a different story. Still, he nodded._

_"Oh."_

_Oh? Was that all he was going to say? Stan took a deep breath before opening his eyes and looking back up at Mike. The other boy was. . . smiling? Stan stared at him confused. Mike, however, simply took another_ _step so that now they were close together and reached out, taking Stan's hand in his own. Stan felt as though he could hardly breathe. There's no way this was happening, was there? He stared at their hands, his heart beating so fast it could pop out if his chest._

_"Stan, hey, look at me?"_

_Stan did. Mike was still smiling, even wider than he had been when he was telling all of them about Sarah._

_"I like you, too."_

_"What?" was all Stan could manage to say, his eyes going wide and unbelieving. Mike laughed a little, shaking his head as his cheeks filled with a deep blush over his dark skin._

_"I like you, Stan. I've had a crush on you for a while."_

_Stan could barely process anything._

_"But Sarah. . . you were so excited about the date."_

_Mike shrugged, "I was excited because someone actually liked me. I've never really had that before. But Sarah, she's not you, Stan."_

_Stan felt a smile he had no control over begin to form on his lips. "Oh."_

_"Yeah. Oh."_

_They both giggled a little at their inarticulate thoughts before Mike leaned in, pressing the gentlist of kisses onto Stan's cheek. The blush on Stan's face lasted for hours, even after he'd gone home._

As embarrassing as it had all been for Stan, he knew his boyfriend described it as one of the best days of his life. God, he was dating such a sap. Finally, after about four rings on the phone, Mike picked up.

_"Hey, Stan,"_ he said softly, and Stan could hear a smile in his voice that put one on his own face as well. Stan feel back against the bed, replying with his own greeting of similar nature.

_"What's up, honey? We saw each other like less than two hours ago."_

The use of the pet name made Stan's heart melt a little. After five months of being with Mike, he still wasn't used to it.

"I, um, I wanted to talk to you about something."

_"Is something wrong?"_

"Not really? I just. . ."

As Stan stalled, Mike stayed silent. Stan loved that Mike never pushed him or tried to fill the space. He just let Stan sort out his thoughts, fight whatever anxiety was clogging his throat, and wait until Stan was ready to say what needed said.

"I'm thinking about coming out to my parents tomorrow," Stan admitted quietly.

_"Oh. Stan, that's great!"_

"Yeah."

_"You don't sound very happy about it."_

Stan shrugged even though Mike couldn't see him.

"I don't know. I really want to tell them, I'm just. . . scared. I'm so scared, Mike."

Mike was quiet for a minute.

_"Stan, your parents love you so much. I don't think you need to be scared to tell them. I think they'll take it well."_

"I know that's rational and all, but. . . I mean, my dad's the _rabbi,_ Mike. What if he doesn't take it well? What if he doesn't love me anymore?" Stan's voice broke a little on the last sentence, just enough for Mike to hear it. On the other end, Mike sighed, sounding sad.

_"I don't know, honey."_

Mike didn't try to tell Stan that he was being irrational, didn't try to degrade his feelings. He just made himself a comforting presence on the other end of the phone.

"I wish I didn't have so much anxiety about coming out to them."

Mike hummed. _"I know what you mean. Telling my grandfather was terrifying. And I even knew he'd be fine with it. But, Stan. . . you know that no matter what happens, you'll be okay, right? You'll still have me and the Losers and the farm is always open for you to come to stay."_

Stan smiled at his boyfriend's words. "Yeah, I know, Mike. Thank you."

_"I love you."_

Stan's smile grew to fill his face. The 'I love you's were new to them, and Stan's heart almost burst every time Mike said it.

"I love you, too."

They both stayed on the phone, silent for a few minutes. It wasn't awkward, but comfortable, just listening to each other breathe and letting each other's company wash over them. Eventually, Mike broke the silence.

_"Hey, hon?"_

"Hm?"

_"Why are you coming out?"_

Stan frowned a little, "What?"

_"Shit, that- that came out wrong. I was_ _just_ _thinking,_ _well,_ _you're_ _coming_ _out_ _for_ _you,_ _right?"_

"What do you mean?"

_"I_ _mean I_ _don't_ _want_ _you_ _to_ _feel_ _any_ _pressure_ _to_ _come_ _out_ _because_ _of_ _me. I_ _know_ _you_ _were_ _the_ _reason I_ _came_ _out_ _to_ _my_ _grandpa,_ _but I_ _need_ _you_ _to_ _be_ _sure_ _that_ _you're_ _coming_ _out_ _because_ _you_ _want_ _to_ _for_ _you._ _You_ _don't_ _have_ _to_ _come_ _out."_

Stan thought for a moment. "Well, I guess I am coming out for you. But I'm doing it for me, too. I've wanted to tell them for a while, but I've been so scared to. Having you is some extra courage."

Mike stayed silent for a few moments, but Stan could tell from the way his breathing changed just ever so slightly that Mike was smiling.

_"_ _Do_ _you_ _want_ _me_ _to_ _come_ _over_ _tomorrow? A_ _little_ _moral_ _support?"_

"No. . . I think I have to do this by myself. Thank you, though." 

_"_ _Anytime,_ _honey._ _Let_ _me_ _know_ _how_ _it_ _goes?"_

"Of course. Good night, Mike. I love you a lot."

_"_ _Love_ _you_ _lots,_ _too."_

They hung up the phone, and Stan moved over to his desk to plug it in for the night. He got into bed still feeling anxious but feeling comfort too in the smell of Mike's cologne on the shirt he wore and his smile running through his mind. Yeah, he thought, he just might be okay.

🎈🎈🎈🎈🎈

When Stan woke up the next morning, he knew it was to an empty house. His mom was at work, his dad leading the Saturday morning service at the synagogue. Both of his parents would come home for a late lunch-early dinner, and then together they would all head to the synagogue for the evening service. Until then, Stan had the house to himself. He'd made plans with Richie after school yesterday to meet up at the park before heading to the arcade. It would be a completely normal day if it wasn't for the realization growing on Stan as he woke that he was coming out to his parents when they got home. In hindsight there was probably a better time than right before they had a religious service, but at this point Stan was committed. If he didn't do it now, he wasn't sure he ever would.

Stan stumbled out of his bed, rubbing at his eyes and ignoring the look of his messy curls in the mirror. He didn't bother getting dressed at all before going downstairs into the kitchen to start the coffee maker. It was his normal routine in the morning, though on school days it was common that his mom had already gotten the coffee at least ready for him. It grew chilly as he entered the kitchen; his father had left the window open, he noted. The September morning was a biting chill that felt like the beginning of fall. With only Mike's t-shirt to keep him warm, Stan frowned and made his way to the window, shutting it gently. When he turned back around towards the coffee maker, he suddenly found himself approaching it with caution.

Sitting in front on the machine was a trifolded piece of notebook paper, Stan's name across it in his dad's messy scrawl. It wasn't unusual for his parents to leave him notes when they left, but it was usually just a quick grocery or chore list attached to the fridge. Why had his dad left him a letter? Stan picked it to read it. At the first line, he felt his chest grow tight and his heart freeze, but he forced himself to keep reading.

_Stan,_

_I overheard your phone call with Mike last night about your plans to come out to us. It's a very brave thing to do. But the only thing I need you to plan to do is to pick up some more orange juice and eggs. We are out, just like you are now._

_Your mom and I will be home around 3 and we'll talk about this more then, but Stan- I've known you were gay since you were eight. Your mom and I have loved you with everything we have since the day you were born. Nothing will ever change that, son._

_-Dad_

_PS: Your mom and I think you and Mike make a lovely couple and he is welcome in our home at any_ _point._

Tears were falling freely down Stan's face by the time he had finished reading. He didn't even know what to think. First, it was that he had been so careful whenever he called Mike- how did his dad overhear? Second, he felt a surge of shy embarrassment at the comment that he and Mike were good together. Third, panic set in of how, how, how could this happen? It wasn't supposed to be like this! He was supposed to have a sit down conversation with them. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Finally, Stan felt a layer of joy. His parents were fine with it. They still loved him. He was out to his parents and it was okay.

A sob wracked Stan's body as he gripped the letter, tears falling into the black ink of his father's favorite pen. Without really thinking about it, Stan grabbed the landline telephone that resided on the counter and dialed on autopilot. Less than 10 seconds later, Richie's voice came out on the end.

_"Hey, St- Eds, what_ _the fuck, babe, get off me! . . . Hey, Stan."_

Stan's breath was shaky as he said a very quiet hello.

_"What's up, Stan the Man?"_

"Richie, I don't think I'm gonna make it to the park today," Stan mumbled through his tears, trying to steady his voice. Richie heard right through it though.

_"Stan, what's wrong?"_

Stan didn't even reply just let out a loud sob.

_"I'm coming over."_

Stan stared shaking his head even though Richie couldn't see him, then said, "No, it's fine, if you have Eddie over-"

_"Stanley, shut up_ _. I'm coming over. Give me 20 minutes."_

Stan stayed silent and Richie hung up the phone. He didn't know why he couldn't stop crying. He wasn't sad. But every time he felt like he could finally properly breathe again, more tears welled up in his eyes. Stan found himself slipping down to the floor. He brought his knees up towards his torso and held his father's letter tight against his chest.

He was still sitting in that position 20 minutes later when he heard a key twisting in the back door lock. He knew it was Richie; his best friend had known exactly where the Uris family kept their spare key since they were in second grade. He heard Richie's voice first, but another added to the mix as the door shut. Suddenly, Stan felt a strike of panic. Shit, if Richie had brought Eddie with him- he didn't want Eddie to see him like this, know that he was crying on the kitchen floor-

His thoughts were quieted as he heard, "Stan? Honey?"

Mike. That was Mike. Of course Richie had brought him with; it didn't take 20 minutes to get between their houses.

Stan looked up from the blurred floor and into the faces of Richie and Mike, both of who looked gentle, comforting, and entirely worried. With the movement of his head, Mike and Richie took the cue to come closer to him, Richie sitting down on his right and Mike crouching in front of him. Mike rested his hand on Stan's knee, careful not to touch him in any way that might cause Stan alarm.

"Stan, what's wrong?" Richie asked in a voice so much quieter than anyone would ever expect from the Trashmouth. Instead of opening his mouth to reply, Stan just shifted his arms, holding out the now crumpled, tear stained letter towards Mike. Mike took it from him with a frown, then widened his eyes as he realized what it was. Stan sat silently as Mike read it out loud in a whisper, just enough so Richie could hear it. Richie gasped as Mike finished, and Stan could see from the corner of his eye his best friend's smile.

"Stan, that's. . . that's awesome," Richie said happily, nudging Stan's shoulder. Stan smiled a little bit, nodding to Richie's words. He knew Richie was holding back a question, probably of why he was crying like his dog had just died. But he didn't say anything, and Stan was grateful for it. Mike was gripping the letter in his hand as he shifted, fully sitting down on the floor in front on Stan and carefully reaching out to pull Stan's hands away from their tight position against his chest. He clasped them in his own, the letter between them.

"I know this isn't the way you wanted it," Mike whispered, "but are you okay? With your dad finding out like this?"

Stan hesitated before nodding again. At his nod, a smile grew on Mike's face. A gave a gentle squeeze to Stan's hands. Stan hadn't realized until right now, but he'd stopped crying once Richie and Mike had come in. Thank God; he hated crying, especially in front of people.

"I was so scared the letter was going to be bad when I started reading it. With my dad, it's. . . everything has always felt off, I guess. Since my Bar Mitzvah."

"Your Bar Mitzvah? What are you talking about?"

Stan felt himself flush red, though Richie looked ecstatic at the memory. Stan had never really told the Losers what had happened at the ceremony or what it was like that summer when they hadn't all been friends. Stan couldn't even remember what they'd all been fighting about that summer. He just knew Richie was the only one who had any knowledge of his disaster of a Bar Mitzvah.

Richie shot up excitedly at the possibility to share what had happened, and Stan didn't even bother to stop him, just looked up and waited. Richie launched into his dramatic interpretation of the ceremony, narrating as we went.

"Okay, okay, so we're in the synagogue, right? And Stan's up there, microphone in hand as his dad is like, right behind him," Richie moves quickly around the kitchen, demonstrating the positions of Stan and his father. "He's supposed to be giving some speech or whatever. Something about becoming a man? Doesn't matter. Anyway, Stan keeps talking and he's kind of going on this weird tangent and he turns around, looks his dad _right in the eye_ and says-"

"I know I'm a loser. And no matter what, I always fucking will be," Stan finishes in unison with Richie.

Richie makes a dramatic showing of the audiences reaction, practically swooning. Stan watched and found himself giggling at Richie's antics despite himself. Mike stared at them both in awe, but he had laughter and what looked like pride in his eyes.

"You actually said that?"

Stan rolled his eyes and nodded, "I was grounded for two weeks. . . But we never really talked about it again. I thought maybe, I don't know. . ."

"What, that he was still upset?" Richie asked, jumping up to sit on the counter in a way Stan's mother would scold him if she saw. Stan nodded with a sigh. He knew that he kind of sounded ridiculous.

"Well, I gotta say, Staniel," continued Richie, "I really don't think he's upset about it. I'm over here a lot and honestly, man, your dad _loves_ you. Your mom, too."

Stan sighed again, whispering, "I know. Rationally, I know that."

They all sat in the kitchen silently for a minute or two before Mike looked up towards Richie, then back to Stan. He stood up, still holding Stan's hands so that he was pulled up, too. Mike turned to look at Richie again, seeming to ask in silent question if they could have a minute. Richie shrugged before grabbing a bag of chips from next to him, hopping off the counter and moving towards the living room. When they were alone, Mike wrapped his arms around Stan in a tight hug. Stan felt himself release more tension than he realized he was even holding as Mike held him. His own arms came around Mike's waist, fingers gripping Mike's sweatshirt. He tucked his face into his boyfriend's neck just after a soft kiss was pressed to his temple.

"I'm proud of you, Stan."

"Why? I didn't even do anything."

"Well, I know you didn't get to really tell your parents yourself and that it didn't go how you want, but still. You were prepared to tell them and had so much courage, honey. No argument, I'm proud of you."

Stan felt like he could cry again and he hated it. He wasn't usually an overly emotional person and so rarely cried. He was suprised he had any tears even left after his sob fest from earlier. He held the water in his eyes back this time, though, and instead pulled his head away from Mike to press a kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you. For being here."

Mike smiled, leaning their foreheads together. "I was working out in the yard when Richie's truck came up the driveway. When he said there was something wrong, I just-" Mike shrugged, "-grabbed a sweatshirt and got in the truck."

Stan felt a surge of affection towards his boyfriend. Mike was always so caring, gentle, selfless, loving, and completely in tune to what Stan felt or needed. It was no wonder Stan had fallen so hard for him. He didn't feel like he deserved Mike at all, but he was so damn glad he had him. Stan brought one of his hand up from Mike's waist to the side of his neck. Slowly, Stan connected their lips, trying to put into it all the love he couldn't quite articulate. Mike responded with happiness, ever so slightly smiling into the kiss the same way he always did. It made Stan's heart skip a beat. The kiss managed, as always, to distract him from everything else going on around him.

Stan had no thoughts of Richie sitting in the living room, no sense of the cool tile floor chilling his bare feet, he had forgotten his parents and the letter laying on the ground beside them. . . All Stan could focus on was Mike's lips moving against his, the strong arms around him, and how much he was fucking in love with Mike Hanlon.

When they pulled apart, Stan knew he didn't have to say it out loud. The look Mike was giving him made it clear that he knew. Mike moved to once again grab one of Stan's hands, gesturing his head towards the living room.

"Wanna go see what Richie's up to?"

Stan groaned a little, "Not really. The last time he was alone in my house he destroyed my bedroom."

Mike laughed, leading him into the other room anyway. They found Richie sitting in the armchair, stuffing his face with chips and messing with something on his phone. Probably texting Eddie. The couch was set up with a bunch of blankets and pillows, and the TV was set up to the play screen of Stan's Stand By Me dvd. When Richie noticed them, he smiled.

"I thought we could watch a movie, help you calm down a little bit. I figured your parents would understand that you didn't make it to the store today."

Stan gave Richie a grateful smile, "Thanks, Rich."

Richie shrugged. Stan knew he was trying to downplay the act of care and kindness, as he normally did, but he and all of their friends knew that Richie loved them all more than anything in the world and would go to the ends of the earth if it meant helping them.

Mike pulled Stan towards the couch, causing Stan to practically fall into his lap as he stumbled. Stan giggled a little as he did, shifting himself so that he was no longer completely sat on his boyfriend but pressed next to him instead. He threw his legs over Mike's lap instead, and as Mike grabbed a blanket to lay over them, Stan tucked his head into his boyfriend's neck and shoulder. Mike kissed the top of his head and retook hold of his hand under the blanket. Stan couldn't help the happy sigh he released, causing Richie to groan.

"I swear to god if you guys start making out at any point during this movie I will fucking vibe check you so hard."

Mike replied with, "You're just jealous 'cause Eddie's not here."

"Nah, I'm just waiting for Stan's mom to get home."

Stan rolled his eyes, mumbling back, "Beep beep," but not caring much for Richie's antics. He felt exhausted and just emotionally drained. Sitting on the couch, Mike's thumb rubbing circles over his hand and arm rounding his waist, Stan slowly began falling to sleep. He barely even heard the movie as Richie pushed play, closings eyes only about 20 minutes in.

🎈🎈🎈🎈🎈

It wasn't long after waking up that Stan realized that he and Mike had changed positions. They were now, somehow, both laying down. Stan's front was tucked into Mike's side, his head on Mike's shoulder and hand resting on his chest, right above where his heart was. He could feel the gentle, steady rhythm of it and the rise and fall of his chest. Mike's arm had a lack hold around his black, his fingers rubbing small circles into his hip, right over the waist band of his sweatpants. Stan had woken to Mike's lips speaking softly against his hairline.

"Stan, honey, you gotta wake up now."

Stan let out a sigh, scrunching up his face as he picked his hand up off Mike's chest and rubbed his eyes.

"Wha?" he whined, causing Mike to laugh at him silently. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that the chair Richie had been sitting in was vacant, looking so pristeen that Stan might think he had never been sitting there at all. Next he noticed that the TV was now very quietly playing the new season of The Great British Baking Show, Mike's favorite guilty pleasure show. Third, and probably most important, Stan finally noted the reason _why_ Mikehad woken him up. Standing above them, waiting patiently and with a slightly amused gaze, stood Stan's father.

Stan felt his face grow red and his heart speed up with embarrassment. He was suddenly much more awake as he sat up as quickly as he could, ignoring Mike's grunt of pain as he accidentally dug his elbow into his boyfriend's side.

"Shi- Dad. Hi."

His dad raised an eyebrow at him and with a smile forming said, "Hi, Stanley."

Stan, feeling the need to explain his and Mike's situation, stammered out, "We were just- um, Richie had come over and- I just. . . fell asleep."

His dad begun slowly nodding as Mike sat up next to Stan. Stan felt tense with Mike as close as he was. Sure, the letter from his father had said he was perfectly fine with it all, that he supported his relationship with Mike, but being there in person was a different story. What if he had changed his mind throughout the day or seeing Stan laying practically on top of his boyfriend had made him think maybe their relationship wasn't as okay as he thought?

Mike could seem to sense Stan's new stress and though he released a small, barely audible sigh, Mike moved away from Stan by a few inches to make him more comfortable. It was a gesture that made Stan want to turn and kiss him out of gratitude. Though that, he supposed, would defeat the purpose.

Stan's father moved over to the coffee table between the TV and couch, sitting on it to face them.

"I take it you found my letter this morning?"

Stan bit his lip in worry, glancing down breifly before responding with a quiet, "Yes, sir."

"Mike, you read it as well?"

Stan's boyfriend nodded silently, not sure what role he was yet playing in this conversation. His father smiled softly at them both, and his mom walked in right at that moment. She walked over to her husband, standing next to him and placing her hand on his shoulder. It was their silent signal that they stood together on whatever issues was on topic, as Stan had learned pretty early in his life. While Stan's father always looked stern, even when Stan knew he was happy or gentle, his mom had an air of kindness and love around her that spread to everyone else in the room, whether they knew her or not. It was calming for Stan to have her in there, smiling at him as she always did- like he was the most precious thing in her life. In fact, it was enough that Stan unconsciously reached out to take Mike's hand, lacing their fingers together. If his parents noticed the movement, neither of them even blinked.

His dad, with his stern face but kinder eyes, looked straight at Stan when he said, "I want you- both of you- to know that we meant every single word in that letter. We don't care if you're gay, or straight, or anything in between. As long as you're with the person you want to love, we will support you until the day we die and after that."

Stan felt, for what must have been the hundredth time that day, tears form in his eyes. He looked down to the ground to hide them, but by the squeeze to his hand that Mike gave him, he hadn't done the best job.

"And Mike?" Stan's mom said in her higher pitched, quiet voice.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Thank you for making Stan happy. Even before we knew you were a couple, and seeing you together on the couch. . . we couldn't be happy to have you dating our son."

Mike let out a shocked, "Oh."

Stan turned to look at his boyfriend, and when they met eyes, a smile grew on both their faces. Yeah, Stan had really never been happier than having Mike by his side. Stan turned back to his parents, who were watching them with love in their eyes.

"You guys really don't mind?" Stan asked, his voice cracking to let known how relieved and shocked he was, and how scared he had been. His parents shook their head.

"No, Stanley," his father said. "And we're sorry you felt like you would have trouble telling us or that we'd react badly. I feel like maybe I should have done a better job at making sure you knew how much I loved you."

Stan shook his head, "No, dad, it wasn't- I know you love me, I just. . . it's not your fault."

His father only gave a nod in response, looking almost to Stan like he might have tears of his own forming. Everyone in the room was silent for a minute before Stan's mom spoke again.

"You came home one day- must have been about third grade. Mike, I'm sure you'll enjoy this story. Stan came home and gosh, you were just bawling your eyes out. It was a miracle that you managed to not crash your bike on your way home, I think. You just came into the kitchen where your father and I were and run up, hugging me tightly. It took a while to get you to calm down and tell us what was wrong."

Stan frowned, trying to remember what exactly his mother was talking about. He didn't have any memory of the day, though he didn't know that it wasn't true either. Mike, however, looked enthralled in his mom's story, a smile on his face that looked as though it was anticipating teasing material for his boyfriend.

"Finally, you just started going on and on about how Bill was supposed to kiss Beverly in the school play."

Suddenly, Stan groaned in realization and Mike piped up in further curiosity. Stan knew where this was going now, and he sank into himself in shame and embarrassment.

"We asked you why you were so upset about that and your reply was that you didn't want Bill to kiss Beverly, you wanted him to kiss _you._ That was the day your father and I figured you were gay."

Mike burst out in a laugh as Stan's mom finished. Stan groaned, putting his free hand over his face to hide his ever growing blush. Mike nudged him with his shoulder, sing-songing, "You had a crush on Bill!"

Stan turned to look at him with mouth agape, narrowing his eyes in teasing betrayal.

"Shut up, so did you!"

Mike just laughed again. It had become general knowledge to the Losers over the years that most, if not all of them, had at one point had a big fat crush on Bill Denbrough. It still made the teenager blush whenever one of them brought it up; Bill really couldn't understand what it was about himself that all the Losers had found crush-worthy. The only one of them who'd ever acted upon it was Bev, but after like four months they had decided to stick with just being friends. It was good, considering Bev and Ben had now been dancing around each other for years, to the strong exasperation of the rest of the group. Out of all of them- with Eddie and Richie's stupidity and Mike and Stan's oblivion to each other- who would have thought that it was the most sensible who had yet to get their shit together?

"Maybe," Mike replied, "but I didn't go running to the farm crying when he got with Bev that summer."

Stan rolled his eyes, but the smile forming on his face betrayed him, "Yeah, but you were so excited after our first date that your _grandfather_ sent me a video of you dancing and singing with the sheep to Don't Stop Me Now. You tripped and got trampled by your own animals when you noticed him filming."

Now it was Mike's turn to look embarrassed, and Stan's parents watched them with quiet laughs.

"Hey, I think I get a pass for that one. It was the first date with the guy I was pretty much in love with already. I was happy."

Stan's heart missed a beat at Mike's words and love declaration, and he smiled wider. "I was really happy, too," he said in a low, quiet voice.

Mike's lips formed into his shy smile that lately seemed reserved for Stan alone, and scooted closer to him on the couch, so their sides were now touching. Stan's mom moved over to them, leaning down to give them both a kiss on the forehead before putting her arms around them in a slightly awkward hug.

"I love you, boys," she whispered before moving out of the living room and into the kitchen. Mike looked surprised for a moment at her addressing them both. All the moms in the Losers Club had all taken Mike in with love, treated him like their own after learning about what had happened to his parents, but Mike still seemed to not know how to react to it. Stan squeezed his hand as he mumbled a response of love to his mom. Next, his dad stood. He came over to them, placed his hand on Stan's curls, ruffling them lightly.

"Mike, would you like to stay for dinner?" he asked as walked out to the kitchen to join his wife. "You can come to the service with us after, if you'd like."

Stan and Mike both stared after him, mouths slightly open. Mike turned to look at Stan in question, to which he received no answer. His father was rare to invite anyone to go to the synagogue with them, and never had it been someone wasn't Jewish. It was a gesture of good faith, one Stan knew his father meant whole-heartedly, that he really did love and support them. Stan shrugged at Mike with a small smile, telling him silently that It was up to him. 

"Um, s-sure. I'd love to," Mike called out. 

His father made a noise of acknowledgement to Mike's answer. The boys sat together on the couch, neither sure what to say. Eventually, Stan turned to look at Mike, leaning in to kiss him softly. When they pulled apart, Mike pressed another kiss to Stan's cheek before leaning their foreheads together. Stan was just thinking about kissing him again when Stan's mom called out from the kitchen, "Oh, and boys? We're going to need to have a conversation about house rules soon."

Stan groaned, sliding his head down to Mike's shoulder. Mike laughed a little, nervously almost.

"I love you," Mike whispered.

"I love you, too," Stan sighed out. He carefully stood, taking Mike up with him. Together they walked to the kitchen to see if there was anything they could do to help. For the first time in over 24 hours, Stan felt completely calm.


End file.
